Today, as I dripped blood on my way to the kitchenette, it occurred to me that with the right blade, you probably wouldn't even feel it if you slit your wrists. Provided you were quick enough, that is.
And then I laughed when I realized how morbid I was being and hoped that no one could read my mind while I was staring at the blood in the sink and wrapping a bandaid around my finger (and then posted it on my blog...).
I worked fifteen hours today. On one hand - ouch. On the other hand - overtime!
But now, without being able to tell you about my fifteen hour first day, I have to go to bed, because it's one in the morning and I'm so damn tired I can barely think.
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